


Reasurrance

by TheSparrow93



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Brothers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSparrow93/pseuds/TheSparrow93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink meme fill. Prompt: I have honestly no idea where this one came from.<br/>As a kid Daryl used to climb into Merle's bed at night, searching safety in his big brother's presence, because of nightmares, because he was afraid of their dad or the monsters under the bed or whatever else you can think of.<br/>At first, Merle was not amused and kicked his brother out, but Daryl didn't give up and always came back until Merle finally gave in and let Daryl sleep in his bed.<br/>Times change and years later it is Merle who climbs into his brother's bed, just to ensure himself of Daryl's heartbeat, that his baby brother is unhurt, breathing and most importantly *alive*.<br/>Long story short: I just want to see some protective Merle.<br/>Nothing sexual please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reasurrance

**Author's Note:**

> I think I got a little carried away with this one because of how much I love Merle and Daryl and their brother relationship.

Merle jerked awake but didn’t know what woke him. He blinked and lay listening; he could hear a loud voice echoing from downstairs, his father was cussing at the TV. He turned to see the time; it was almost three AM, leave it to his old man to be cursing out an infomercial. That wouldn’t have been enough to wake him though, he had listened to the old fuck yelling for seventeen years it was nothing new. Movement next to his bedside table had him jumping and jerking the cord on his lamp harshly. 

“Fuck! Ya outta yer damn mind?” Merle asked clutching his chest glaring at the small boy shifting from foot to foot next to his bed. So that’s what woke him, being freaking stared at. 

“Daddy’s mad.” Daryl said softly. He had always been a quiet kid but Merle never understood why a six year old would be so soft spoken.  
“No shit.” Merle snorted lying back down on his bed and Daryl started climbing up on the mattress with him, “Umm, excuse you?” Merle said pressing his hand to Daryl’s small chest stopping him half dangling off the bed. 

“I’m scared.” Daryl said even quieter. His light blue eyes were swimming and his tiny shoulders trembling.

“Tough shit.” Merle said knocking Daryl off the side onto the thin stained carpet. 

“B-but…” Daryl feebly tried to protest. 

“Go the fuck ta bed.” Merle said shutting off his light and rolling over. 

He heard the little guy sniffling on the carpet for a few minutes before he got up and left the room. Merle heard Daryl’s bedroom door shut down the hall and tried to not think about a little quivering lip. He jerked his covers over his head when he heard the sound of a smashing bottle and louder yelling followed by a barely muffled sob not thirty feet away. 

Merle wasn’t surprised to be startled out of sleep a few nights later to the sound of his mother shouting and his father’s yells. He found Daryl had already crawled up next to him and was whimpering into his teddy bear that he had dragged in with him. Merle shoved Daryl back down onto the carpet without a word. The little boy just stood up and walked out whining with tears. Merle wanted to be angry over his weakness but he couldn’t find it in him to fault the kid.

It went on for weeks. Merle would wake up to varying degrees of his little brother trying to sneak into his bed and each time the sound of angry voices could be heard floating up the stairs as he threw him out. Merle stayed out late one night having a few drinks with his friends hoping when he got home Daryl would be knocked out in his own room. He opened the door well after one in the morning to find his parents were both still up. 

“What is wrong with you?!” His mother screamed, she was still in her work cloths and her makeup and hair were still done. What had he missed?

“He was botherin me.” His father said gulping from a bottle. 

“That doesn’t mean ya can put yer hands on him!” She screamed and Merle noticed she was shaking.

“What happened?” Merle asked slamming the door behind him. 

“Merle.” She breathed seeming relieved that he was home. 

“What’s wrong?” Merle asked walking over to her, he noticed her mascara was running. 

“That little fuck,” His father slurred, Merle stiffed at the term, “Wouldn’ shut the fuck up.”

“He kept askin when you were comin home,” She said rubbing Merle’s arm seeing his fist had clenched, “I told him late and then he got a little upset. I think he was missin you.” She said glancing over at her husband. 

“So, I gave ‘im somethin ta cry bout.” He said with a burp turning up the volume on the TV. Merle didn’t know what made him do it or maybe he did and just didn’t want to admit it, but he walked over and cuffed his father upside the back of his head.

“Merle!” She gasped. His father sputtered and went to get up but Merle dragged him up by his ratty tank top front. Merle was a few inches taller than the man now and his size came from muscle not six packs. 

“Don’t ya ever lay another hand on him.” Merle didn’t know what he had meant by gave him something to cry about but if his own back and stomach was any indication it wasn’t good. His father’s eyes were hazy from drink and he just grinned up at Merle.

“Alright,” He slurred still grinning and Merle hated the sight of it. Merle tossed him down on the ancient recliner and headed for the stairs.

“Go ta bed, Ma.” Merle said stopping at her side for a moment. She nodded up at him as he brushed his thumb over her cheek wiping a few blackened tears away. Merle watched her walk to her room her hands still shaking slightly as she lit a cigarette to calm her nerves. 

Merle ran up the stairs and pushed into Daryl’s room to find the bed empty. No, the kid wouldn’t have run would he? Merle then noticed the tattered teddy was missing and he knew where he was. He hurried back down the hall and sighed seeing a little body curled up under his comforter with the light still on.

Merle walked silently over to his bed and looked the little face over. His lower lip was busted, blood caked slightly on his chin. His left cheek that was still baby full was bruised darkly. He didn’t look too bad, nothing would scar. He had always been a little envious of Daryl’s still smooth skin, by his age Merle had more scars than he could count but he didn’t hold it against the little guy. Pa had always seemed to have a soft spot for Daryl and Merle wanted it to stay that way, this couldn’t happen again. Daryl was too cute for scars, Merle had been a raggedy kid so the marks didn’t diminish his appearance but they would just look wrong on his little brother. 

Merle kicked his boots off and tossed his cloths aside until he was in just his boxers and tank top before clicking the light off. He climbed into bed pulling the comforter out of Daryl’s small fist and jostling the kid moving him over so he could have some room. Daryl sniffled hugging his teddy close as he opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Daryl mumbled quickly moving to get up but Merle pulled him back down to the bed next to him.

“Yer fine,” Merle said adjusting his pillow as Daryl settle unsurely back down. 

“Really?” He asked daring to scoot closer to Merle’s larger body. 

“Get some sleep baby brother.” Merle said closing his eyes. He heard Daryl giggle softly before cuddling against his side.

“Love ya, Merle.” Daryl said into his chest as a goodnight. Merle snorted as answer. 

They went on like that for months. Merle would wake up to find Daryl getting into his bed and Merle would let him. Even on nights when it was silent downstairs. 

\-----------------//////////////////

Merle was eighteen when he stopped coming home. The old fuck was getting worse; Merle couldn’t count how many fights there had been. He just knew he couldn’t go back, he would kill the fucker. He almost had a few times and each time it was over the same thing, the same person. The booze made the man forget his sweetness for his youngest. Merle had sliced his knuckles over the shit wads teeth every time he opened his mouth against the little guy. 

Merle had made it clear that last fight that last time he was in that house, if he got wind of anything he would beat the Jack Daniels influenced rage out of the man along with more than a few teeth and some snapped bones. However, it was hard to keep his ear to the ground from behind bars. That son of a bitch had found his stash that he had left under his bed and called the cops not a week after Merle stopped coming home. One blood test and Merle was set up to sit the next eleven years in the county prison. 

He didn’t get one scrap of mail the whole time he was inside, not a single visitor. People probably don’t realize but when boredom gets so bad it becomes very easy to foster a drug habit and behind prison walls is the easiest place to get your hands on said pharmaceuticals. Even eleven years can speed by when you’re in a constant haze. 

Daryl was the one to pick him up the day he was released. Merle could barely recognize him because this wasn’t the little boy would use to sneak into his bed at night. This was a hardened man; he had missed so many crucial years. He didn’t know what made Daryl’s eyes drift to the ground or caused him to constantly fidget with his thumb nail. Who was this person?

When Daryl opened his mouth the first time, miles down the road from the prison Merle knew not everything had changed. Daryl’s voice was mildly deep and had just an edge of roughness but it was so soft, it was like warm water sliding over your skin. This was his little brother after all. Daryl told him that their mom had died, burned to death. It was a long story and Merle noticed the way his voice hitched at certain parts, like the part where he wished Merle could have been around for the funeral. 

“Pa never told me ya was in prison, not until jus before he died.” Daryl said next. So, the old fuck was dead too, Merle noted that Daryl wasn’t even a little fazed over speaking of his death, he just glared out the windshield. 

“Where’d ya think I was?” Merle asked as they pulled into the yard of the old house.

“Ya left, that’s all I needed ta know.” Daryl said shutting off the truck.

“Yeah, I did.” Merle said even though it wasn’t completely true but it was what Daryl had been told for eleven years. Merle was alright with being put off as the bad guy, he was good at it.

“Will ya again?” Daryl said opening his door but not getting out and not looking at him.

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” Merle said honestly, he didn’t want to leave again. Daryl looked at him for the first real time; his eyes were still that shocking blue. He stared back into those eyes before Daryl gave a jerk of a nod then got out of the cab. 

Merle really wanted to keep his word but life is never as easy as you hope it will be. Merle was in and out of jail for years but he did always come back and Daryl was always waiting. Merle never let him visit him inside even though Daryl expressed an interest in doing so.

“Why not?” Daryl’s voice was cracking and gritty over the shitty phone the jail had. There was only four minutes left on the call, sixteen bucks for a fifteen minute call was bullshit and Merle only let Daryl pay the charges once a month when he was on long stints. 

“Cause I don’t ever want ya ta see what the inside of these places looks like.” Merle answered.

“Merle c’mon.” Daryl protested.

“Listen here,” Merle said firmly, “And listen good, when I’m in a place where there aint nothin ya can do fer me jus don’t come. Wait fer me to get back ta ya. Ya understand?”

“Yea, but how can I jus leave ya like that?” Daryl asked as the automated voice informed them there was only two minutes left. 

“Casue I’ll always come back, no matter what.” Merle said and he heard Daryl chuckle on the other end of the line. 

“Ya swear?” Daryl asked his voice light.

“Ya know it.” Only one minute left, “See ya in a few weeks baby brother.”

“See ya bro,” Daryl said and just before the line died Merle heard in a soft voice that Daryl was starting to stop using, more confident in himself now, “Love ya, Merle.”

Merle smiled shaking his head as he hung the receiver back on the hook.

\-----------------///////////////

Merle figured the whole end of the world thing would mean never having to leave Daryl again. They would always be together, have each other’s back but even the best laid plans and all that shit. He hoped Daryl remembered what he told him all those years ago, as he hobbled through the streets arm wrapped in a shirt and the smell of burnt flesh still in his nose. 

He had just gotten through the fence on the edge of the city that the Asian kid used to get in and out when his lightheadedness hit a peak. He collapsed on the hard gravel fighting to stay awake. He had to get back. He heard the sound of feet crunching on the gravel before he blacked out.

\---------------/////////////

Merle had told himself for months that Daryl was out there somewhere, safe and sound. He had to believe that because he couldn’t bear the alternative. Now they were back together and it had not been the reunion movies were made of. Daryl had chosen him over his friends but it was like they were back when he got out of prison for the first time. They didn’t know each other anymore.

They both knew it was stupid to be yelling at each other out in the woods like they were but they were both pissed. Merle didn’t mind that Daryl wanted to help those Mexicans but he didn’t like that he had put himself in danger like that. He knew his mouth was running on its own and what was coming out was awful but he couldn’t stop it. He had only had Daryl back for a short time and he could have just lost him again but permanently. 

When Daryl snapped at him he just acted on reflex. He didn’t like when people just walked away from him, he grabbed Daryl’s shirt without thinking. His grip combined with Daryl’s momentum had the shirt ripping off its seams. Daryl stumbled before hitting his knees. Merle had no idea what was about to come out of his mouth but it died on his tongue. He dropped the ruined materiel as he stared. 

The rough bunches of skin and lines crossing Daryl’s back had his throat suddenly very dry. He felt a twinge skirt down his own back, wounds long healed seemed to ache but he knew it was his heart that was burning. 

“I d-didn’t know he…” Merle tried to say but he knew that was lie. The steely look in Daryl’s eyes when he spoke of the man’s death, it should have been so clear but you are always blind to the things you don’t want to see. 

“Yeah, you did.” Daryl said trying to cover his back with the wrecked shirt as he grabbed for his pack and crossbow, “He did the same to you. That’s why you left first.”

Merle didn’t know what to say to that. How do you respond to the truth? He had always hoped the fucker would have listened, kept his hands to himself but Merle had always known that was a pipe dream hadn’t he?

“Where you going?” Merle called as Daryl started away through the trees.

“Back where I belong.” Daryl said panting; he was so close to a break down, fighting as hard as he could to keep it together.

“I can’t go with ya,” Merle said desperately, he tried to get Daryl to understand why he couldn’t go.

“You know, I may be the one walking away but you’re the one who’s leaving. Again.” Daryl said walking off. 

Merle clenched his fist and grits his teeth. Nothing good would come from him going back there but he had to. He huffed as he hurried to catch up with his little brother. He was tired of leaving.

\---------------------//////////////

They had managed to clear the field fairly easily. Rick, Daryl and Merle all stumbled into the inner gate covered in blood and sweat. They took a moment to catch their breath. Merle clasped his hand on Daryl’s shoulder his eyes scanning down his body doing a quick scratch and bite check. He saw Daryl doing the same to him when a gun cocked next his head, Merle rolled his eyes and looked over at Maggie who was holding the gun.

“What’s he doing here?” Carol asked looking desperately at Daryl. 

“He jus helped save Rick and all yalls asses.” Daryl said shoving the gun out of his brother’s face. 

“He can’t stay.” Maggie said.

“Yeah he can, for now.” Rick said putting the python in his holster. 

“Rick, he isn’t safe. Look at Glenn and Michonne.” Beth said eyeing Merle warily.

“Damn, got little girls I aint never had a word with hatin me. That does the heart good.” Merle said trying to sound sarcastic but it did hurt a little. 

“We’ll lock him up for now, just to be safe.” Rick said firmly.

“Oh goody.” Merle snipped.

“He can stay in my cell.” Daryl said grabbing Merle’s arm and heading into the prison, “Jus lock us both in.” 

“Daryl, don’t!” Carol said pleadingly. Rick just nodded ushering everyone inside.

Daryl took Merle to his cell wordlessly. Merle went willingly, he knew it wouldn’t be on level ground with these people and he was used to being a prisoner. Rick closed the door behind them and locked it. Everyone gathered around the cell for a while before Daryl barked at them to leave. Merle slumped onto the bed and Daryl set his stuff down. Merle watched the shirt back fall down around Daryl’s waist again. Daryl was yanking the remnants of the shirt off when Merle’s hand touched his back.

Daryl only stiffened for a moment before letting the tension seep out. The pads of Merle’s fingers were rougher than the scarred skin. He could only reach a few of the lower ones; two that looked like long burns the tissue was so raw and red. Daryl stepped away when a finger ran over the length of one that disappeared under the line of his pants.

“Ya know I really never wanted ya to see inside of one of these places.” Merle said looking around the cell; it looked a lot like all the ones he had been in before. Daryl nodded as he moved to the small sink that was in each cell and let it fill with cold water.

“Come wash up.” Daryl said quietly, his voice so soft again. 

Merle walked over as Daryl dipped a wash cloth into the water and wiped his face off flinching when he scrubbed over the cut on his cheek. Merle pulled the cloth out of his hand and dipped it again before pressing it to the wound that now oozed slightly. 

“Got a first aid kit?” Merle asked pulling the lightly stained cloth away to check the blood flow, it had almost stopped again. Daryl jerked his head at his pack. Merle pressed Daryl’s hand to the cloth before moving to rummage through the bag before pulling out a small white box. He opened it and found a bandage large enough and a half used tube of antibiotic ointment. Daryl’s fingers reached between his and grabbed a smaller bandage before Merle snapped it shut. 

Merle turned back and set the stuff on the shelf above the sink. He pulled the cloth back and dropped it in the water. He picked up the ointment and put a little on his finger. Daryl didn’t flinch when Merle tilted his head back so he could see the cut better before rubbing the gel over it. He peeled the bandage open and placed it over the cut almost gently. Daryl said nothing just pulled the rag out of the water wringing out a little before running it over the bridge of Merle’s nose.

Merle smiled at how familiar this felt. Them patching each other up after a long fight and damn had the fight been too long. Daryl put the bandage in place once the ointment was applied and returned the smile slightly. Merle ruffled his hair and Daryl shoved his arm away with a grin. 

Merle started undoing the buckles on his impromptu prosthetic. He pulled it off and set it in the water for it to rinse off. He saw Daryl wince at the sight of his arm, it was ugly and thick scar tissue made it look overly grisly. Daryl was right though, he had been his fault when he looked past his pain and fuck did this thing still hurt at times. He was glad when Daryl said nothing about it. Merle shrugged his over shirt off tossing it aside followed by his tank top. He ran the cloth over his chest and under his arms rubbing a layer of dirt and grime off. He glanced at Daryl and noticed him staring. 

“What?” Merle asked dropping the cloth in slightly muggy water.

Daryl said nothing just reached out and rested his hand on Merle’s stomach. There was a large scar there; it was a patch of poorly healed burned skin that ran from his navel to the start of his hip bone. It was one of his oldest but Daryl had never seen it. Merle wasn’t ashamed of his body but he hid that. It was the biggest one he had and it dwarfed all the ones on Daryl’s skin.

“Did he?” Daryl asked his voice still soft.

“I was four.” Merle said just as quietly. Daryl looked up at him, his eyes asking what his mouth was too afraid to say. 

“He was drunk,” Merle started sounding like it had just happened yesterday, “Ma was at work and he was so shitfaced he couldn’ remember his name. I was on the couch watchin him stumble around yellin at walls an’ shit. I shoulda went ta my room when he started the fire but-”

“Fire?” Daryl cut him off, “We didn’ have a fire place.”

“Not when you was comin up we didn’t. Ma had it sealed not a week later.” Merle informed, “So, he made a fire and asked if I knew how ta roast weenies. I did so I nodded. He said ta come help him roast some. I went over next ta him and told him we aint had no weenies. See, my mistake was gettin anywhere near that fucker or that fire.” Merle paused and Daryl tightened his hand over the scar.

“He said we did, a big one. He grabbed the backa my neck and shoved me toward the fire. I stumbled on the hearth and fell more to the side than he wanted. I were so small then I was pretty much all the way in the fire place, my hands landed in the back away from the flames but he had my stomach pressed down on one a the logs.” Merle said his hand coming up to cover Daryl’s over the hard skin, “He held me there and I was-…” Merle cut himself off at the memory.

“He held ya there while ya screamed.” Daryl stated and Merle nodded. 

“I was so loud our old neighbors called the cops. When they got there he had tossed me on the rug, a different one Ma had that one burned kinda ironic really. I was blackin out when the ambulance got there but the cops asked what the fuck he had been doing. He just smiled and said roastin weenies.” Merle spat the last words out. Daryl blinked a few times before pulling his hand way to look at the scar again.

“I’m sorry.” Daryl said softly before turning back to the sink to finish washing. He was sorry for his brother’s pain and for making him tell the story because he knew remembering hurt worse than the wrecked flesh.

“Don’t be,” Merle said resting his hand on Daryl’s shoulder blade feeling the snag of abused flesh under his palm. Daryl nodded and didn’t push him away so Merle stayed next to him for the simple reason that he missed being there. 

\-------------------///////////////

Daryl gave him the top bunk. They were lying in the dark listening to the sounds of the prison and the group. Carol and Beth were having a conversation that wasn’t as hushed as they thought it was.

“Why is he in there with him?” Beth asked.

“I don’t know, Merle doesn’t deserve that kind of loyalty.” Carol answered. 

“He is as awful as yall said. He was so gross, the way he looked at me.” Beth said and Merle snorted. He had barely glanced at the girl. 

“Don’t trust him; he isn’t as honorable as Daryl.” Carol said making Merle roll his eyes.

“Ya got an admirer baby brother.” Merle said much quieter then the women.

“Shut up.” Daryl had a chuckle in his voice. 

“Ya like her back?” Merle asked.

“No, she is jus a friend.” Merle listened for any bullshitting but Daryl’s voice was sincere, “Go ta sleep.”

Merle snorted but lied back on the thin mattress. He closed his eyes but his mind wouldn’t shut down so he could sleep. Honestly, he hadn’t slept right in months, not since before Atlanta. His mind always started racing, conjuring up images in his head he didn’t want to see. When he got a flash of Daryl face down on the bridge walkers all around him and the people he had just gave his life for speeding away Merle sat up in bed shaking his head. He focused on the breathing on the bunk below him but he couldn’t calm himself, it was always like this. He would get a little bit of fitful sleep then sit up trying to banish the images.

Merle slipped off the top bunk without thinking. He didn’t know what he was planning to do until he was already on the bottom bunk. Daryl snorted awake as Merle gently slid him over and lied down next to him, his back to Daryl practically dangling off the edge. 

“Merle?” Daryl said softly his hand reaching up to rest on Merle’s head, his fingers running through his hair slightly. Merle turned over put his head on Daryl’s chest with no preamble. Daryl floundered for a moment before realizing what Merle was doing. 

They were both still shirtless and Merle felt like he was a thousand degrees but Merle had always felt hot he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Merle’s rested his cheek against the tattoo on Daryl’s chest and let the man’s warmth seep in, he let his head rise and fall to his brothers breathing. He closed his eyes and listened, the steady thump under his ear made him sigh reassured. All he saw behind his lids was darkness and it was beautiful. Daryl rested his hands on Merle’s back feeling the catch of scar tissue, there was very little smooth skin. 

Merle was a little heavy but Daryl didn’t say anything. Merle curled his arms under Daryl’s back and shifted so the back of his head was nestled into Daryl’s neck, the flutter of his heart now next to his mouth. Daryl rested one of his hands in Merle’s hair as they started to drift off.

“Love ya, Daryl.” Merle murmured into his skin, it was barely a whisper but it was like a roar in Daryl’s ears. 

Daryl brushed his lips over the top of Merle’s head as he said, “Love ya, Merle. Now get some sleep.”

He fell asleep knowing Daryl would be there come morning and he didn’t dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like OP.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, why does no one ever bring up Merle's scars?? I mean, he has to have them because Daryl said their dad beat Merle too. I mean, cmon. 
> 
> Leave a comment guys :D


End file.
